


The Day Death Created Life

by MayAChance



Category: Harry Potter - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fairy Tales, Gen, Hufflepuff Harry Potter, Temporary Character Death, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayAChance/pseuds/MayAChance
Summary: There once was a young wizard, who was kind and growing wise, who met another wizard in the depths of the forest. The older, more powerful wizard slew the young man with a single curse, and Death arrived to the scene. Death, angered by the young wizard's passing, granted him a second chance and when the two finally met again, the young wizard asked why him, to which Death replied, "You are kind and you are wise, and there is no greater type of man in the world.”





	The Day Death Created Life

Excerpt from _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ :

_The path his feet walked was aged cobble, and the path his spirit walked was new stone that curved towards a castle that grew with every good deed the man did._

_He was a young man, but kind and gentle and so very unprepared for the world that he was to enter, and thus one day the young man came upon another, more powerful but arrogant with a spirit walking through a graveyard of the souls he had forced Death to take before their time._

_The older, more powerful wizard slew the young man and before he was aware of the events that passed, the young man found his spirit face to face with Death._

_And Death spoke to him, angered voice telling the young man that it was not his time._

_The young man replied, and soon found himself reborn into the form of his younger body, mind fully intact as his fists clutched at open air, parents cooing above him._

_For all that he was not a young man for a great deal longer, the young man grew wiser with each day and soon found himself walking towards the ever-growing castle, his rival through a growing graveyard. They met once more, in a forest that towered above their heads and held many secrets. Wise beyond his years, the young man turned to him and spoke of what he knew, explaining how Death despised those who took lives that did not belong to them._

_The other wizard considered, and just as he raised his wand to slay the young man, a shimmering vale appeared between them, for the young man spoke the truth, and Death was displeased._

_He spoke to Death once more that night, and just as Death turned to go, the figure smiled back at the young man, and told him, “You are kind and you are wise, and there is no greater type of man in the world.”_

-

In 1995 in a small graveyard in a proportionately small town called Little Hangleton, a young spirit rose from his body. Pale features were turned silver with the shimmer of the dead, once golden-brown hair flickering in the pale light of the graveyard. Nothing more than a spirit, he watched in horror as the scene played out before him, unable to aid his living ally.

His name was Cedric Diggory, all of seventeen years old and already felled by the wand of a wizard more powerful than he. His ally, still drawing air to his lungs, was younger-yet Harry Potter, fourteen years beneath his belt and already more daring than many a wizard older than he.

Death materialised at the edge of the graveyard, cloak floating behind while the amortal settled next to Cedric, turning to gaze at the young ghost with soul-searching eyes.

Panicked, Cedric looked back and though he didn’t pale, his expression did shift.

“Can you help him?” He inquired to Death.

Death’s head tilted back, and the figure regarded the young wizard for a great time before replying. “Have you read _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_?” The tone was strange, voice covered with an accent of a bygone era, but every word was enunciated with such careful thought, and every word seemed filled with hidden meaning.

“I- yes. My mother read them to me as a child.”

Time around them seemed to slow to a crawl, the spell hurtling from Harry Potter’s wand inching through the air while the Dark Lord’s wand slowly rose backwards in the preparation for casting another spell.

“And you know ‘The Day Death Created Life’?”

Cedric nodded.

“Then perhaps,” Death continued, soft feet padding around the shifting spirit, long cloaks trailing behind him like a dark incarnation of a wedding trail, “do you know what I am going to ask you?”

The once-living wizard took in a sharp breath of air, head snapping to look at Death as the figure shifted around the young spirit.

Humming softly, Death continued, “There once was a young wizard known amongst his people for being kind and righteous. There once was an aged wizard known across the land for being merciless and cruel. And when these two wizards did meet, the younger was slain at the wand of the elder, forced to depart this life before his time. But I spoke with the young wizard, and after much deliberation chose to offer him a second chance at life, so that the young wizard might someday become a wise and good man, who sought to keep his people safe.” The hooded figure clucked, ending the circling to stand before Cedric, and the figure breathed, “Now how might you fit into all of this?”

When the young man didn’t answer, rather flickering his gaze away to watch red light crawl across the graveyard, Death continued.

“I’d like to offer you another chance, Cedric. This place,” an expansive hand gestured referenced the scene before them, “is not where your life will end.”

The duel somehow forgotten before them, green and red inching towards one another, Cedric tipped his head at Death. “Not that I’m protesting, Sir, but why me?”

Death’s head tipped back so that the cloak no longer shadowed the dark features beneath. The amortal had skin the colour of cocoa, dark eyes and black hair cut very short. “Why not you?”

When Cedric didn’t immediately answer, Death sent the lad an indulgent smile. “You are kind, and loyal, and good. What more do I need?” Cedric shifted awkwardly, and Death continued in the same dry voice. “I do not wish death upon those who are good. Should the young Mr. Potter die before his time, I will offer him the same option as I offer you.” An expansive gesture returned the slowed duel to mind, brilliant colours clashing together and a force field - pale blue - sprung from the impact point.

Cedric flicked his gaze to it.

“It’s time. Follow me.”

-

On September 23, 1977, Verbana and Amos Diggory found themselves the proud new guardians of a little Cedric Diggory, who had whispy gold hair and the blue eyes that all babies had for a time. At first they were concerned; Cedric never cried, rather gazed curiously at everything around him. Nothing ever seemed to surprise him, not even the family Kneazle, Ceridwen, when she snuck into his room and proceeded to curl up in his crib and nibble his fingers.

The healer, however, assured them that they had nothing to worry about. Cedric was a perfectly healthy young boy, simply a very calm one.

By the time Cedric was three months old, his parents weren’t so concerned. He was developing as expected for a child of his age. At seven and a half months, Cedric took his first steps and walked confidently at nine months. By twelve months, he had a limited vocabulary, but one that was very large for babies of his age. For the Diggory family, it quickly became clear that Cedric was a gifted young boy.

At five, Cedric insisted that he was going to attend a muggle primary school, to which his mother replied, “Cedric, but what about magic? We can’t have you telling anyone about that.”

Cedric said, very firmly, “I won’t tell anyone, Mum.”

In the end he went, attending primary school in Ottery St. Catchpole, beginning Year 1 and completing six years of muggle schooling before receiving a Hogwarts letter keyed to his name.

His wand, just over twelve inches of ash with a single hair from a unicorn, became something he kept holstered on his wrist at all times rather than tucked into his robes or bookbag like his parents did. They bought his books and robes and potions ingredients, and sent him off to Hogwarts with a tiny Saw Whet owl affectionately named Eirian.

-

“Diggory, Cedric,” Professor McGonagall announced in her clear, powerful voice.

The first year, who was tall for his age and had a fluffy head of golden-brown hair, shifted through the crowd of the other children in his year. He carried himself forwards with careful steps, giving the professor holding the Sorting Hat a shy smile before sitting on the rickety wooden stool. The Hat dropped down over his eyes, and abruptly Cedric’s world was encased in darkness.

Having the Sorting Hat enter his mind was a peculiar sensation, something like cold honey dripping down his spine and a presence nestling itself in his mind.

_“Well Mr. Diggory, it’s not often I meet someone I have already sorted, though I don’t deny it’s happened before. You’re not quite the same little boy I sorted, but I do believe you would make an excellent_ Hufflepuff!”

McGonagall grabbed the hat, and Cedric slipped off the stool as his house applauded him cheerfully.

Careful steps guided him to the table, where he sat down next to a smiling Second Year he recognized as Avis Lowell, who greeted him warmly and introduced herself.

-

He was ahead in his classes significantly, and the teachers could tell as much. They gave him points when he was the first to finish a new spell, and promptly gave him the remainder of the period to work on more complex spells, all while insisting that he read up on the theory. The only class he was unable to get ahead in was potions, where he was forced to brew exactly what Professor Snape stated exactly when Professor Snape stated. Nonetheless, he gained the respect of the cold teacher by consistently brewing his potions at a high level.

The year continued, and over a dozen times through it did he feel someone brushing at his mental shields.

-

Cedric went home for the summer, Eirian perched on his shoulder and preening through his hair with her sharp little beak has he was wrapped in a hug by his mother and father. They spent the summer at Ottery St. Catchpole, and most days Cedric went out to spend time with the Weasleys, whose son Percy was a year older than Cedric, and had twins in the same year as Cedric. The twins were Gryffindors, and quickly become the notorious pranksters he remembered from his previous life.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was what he did and that was alright.

His end of term marks came in three weeks after school finished, and he received O’s in every subject, and was top of his year.

Delighted, his parents each took a few days off and they went to East Devon Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. It was not something that had happened the first time around, and Cedric found himself enjoying the easy relationship he had with his parents in comparison to the mounds of expectations that he had before returning. It was only a weekend, but it was amazing.

-

Second Year began much the same. That year, Hufflepuff gained fifteen students and Cedric happily greeted them at the table, offering to help them with their work while his two friends, Ashley O’Leary and Kristeen Summers, grinned back and forth, occasionally nudging Cedric with some piece of information about the new defence teacher.

As the previous year had been, it was uneventful.

The entire Year got updates on their magical vaccinations with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout offered him a place on the house Quidditch team when he received a broom for his birthday. He had excelled at flying lessons the previous year, of course, but with a broom at his disposal he became the reserve seeker for Hufflepuff, with their starter being a seventh year named Jonathan Marks.

The broom was a Nimbus, a model a few years old that was top of the market when first released. It was nonetheless an excellent broom, and Cedric found himself delighted by it.

He played in their final game against Slytherin while Jonathan was beginning his exam preparation. The other boy was not a brilliant student, and rather a hard worker who deserved the good marks he received.

They won the game, and fell into third place while Gryffindor won.

It was a particularly easy thing to analyse when schoolwork was rather boring, and the conclusion that Cedric came to was that Dumbledore was a biased, bigoted old man who needed a serious change in attitude if he ever wanted Cedric’s loyalty.

-

Summer came and went. He received the same straight O marks he had the previous year, and spent time with the twins tossing quaffles around. In his spare time, he learned to cast spells windlessly and silently, with no doubt in his mind that he would soon need to have the skill perfected.

He signed up for Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies, the former because of its useful nature and the latter because it was just such a fun subject. He needed a little joy in his life.

-

Third year was when things got interesting, as he had expected. The return of one Harry James Potter to the wixen world meant that Dumbledore’s great big plan would be set in motion and that Quirrel would be possessed by Voldemort (and wasn’t _that_ a shocker to learn about) and the philosopher’s stone tucked away in the castle. Frankly it was a recipe for disaster, a potion about to explode and something that had been cooked up by the headmaster himself.

They got to Kings Cross early, taking tea at a little shop in the station and watching as the muggles bustled by, going about with their busy lives as they would any other day.

When a lost-looking eleven year old Harry Potter wandered through the station with a very large trunk and lovely snowy owl, Cedric nudged his mum and pointed towards the lost First Year. “Mum, he’s going to Hogwarts too and he looks lost.” It had become a habit over the years, all for the purpose of that particular moment.

With his mum’s arms around Cedric’s shoulders, they approached the boy.

“Hullo,” Cedric said with a smile, dragging his own trunk after him and ensuring that Eirian was perched happily on his shoulder. “I’m Cedric. You’re going to Hogwarts too?”

The other boy nodded. “I’m Harry.”

Cedric helped to shove Harry’s things up, and sat down to answer any questions he had.

Later the same day, Harry Potter became the first member of the Potter family to be sorted into Hufflepuff, where he was greeted warmly by all. The other First Years were gentle souls, and Cedric got the sense that the little group would get along quite well. There weren’t many that year, just ten in comparison to the thirty-five the school had received, per house each year, before the Wizarding War.

That year, Professor Sprout approached him about taking an OWL or two in his fourth year rather than fifth, and Cedric agreed. The next year, he would be taking his History of Magic and Transfiguration OWLs.

On Halloween, the troll broke into the castle and Hufflepuff House refused to leave when it became clear that the professors did not care what became of the house of ‘left-overs’.

The following day, Harry curled up by Cedric with a book, eyes flickering over the page as he drew comfort from Cedric’s presence. They became friends, with Cedric helping Harry with his homework and Harry providing a presence free of expectations. It was nice. Different.

At the end of the year it was Cedric who told the younger Hufflepuff, very firmly, “Professor McGonagall is not in league with whoever is taking the stone, and she will most certainly believe us.”

She did.

-

The summer came and went just as they all did. His marks came in the mail, just as expected, to the delight of his parents. He wrote letters back and forth with his friends, hovered just above the house to look out over the surrounding fields, and spent time with the Twins.

-

Harry sought him out on the train, curled up on one of the seats with his snowy owl Hedwig perched on his head, and fell asleep.

For all that Cedric had little knowledge of the other Hufflepuff’s home life, he did have a few sparse details. Vernon and Petunia Dursley were happily married with their son Dudley, who was a few months older than Harry and, if Harry was to be believe, weighed as much as a young whale. The Dursley family was perfectly normal (“thank you very much”), and preferred to pretend that Harry didn’t exist, let alone attend a school for magic. While Cedric had no direct evidence that they were abusive, he certainly suspected it. Harry was very short, and very shy, and had a great deal of trouble looking people in the eye.

It came as no surprise to Cedric that Harry sought out a quiet, familiar presence, seeing as he didn’t have a chance to relax all through the summer.

The sorting came and went, and come Halloween there was the first petrification. Mrs. Norris, that horrible creature, was found beneath a message written in blood: Enemies of the Heir Beware.

While it had happened before, it still came as quite the surprise.

The petrifications continued until Cedric pulled a book from the shelves of the restricted section, flipped it open to the page on Basilisks (“Of all the creatures that have been said, and proved, to roam Europe, the Basilisk is undoubtedly among the most horrifying. Hatched from a chicken’s egg tended to and sat upon by a toad, are most commonly found by muggle farmers, who suffer instant death from the eyes of the snake. Rare cases, believed to be when the farmer made indirect contact with the basilisk such as in a reflection, leave the farmer left paralysed. Frequently referred to as the King of Serpents, Basilisks will continue to grow for as long as they can survive.”) and plopped it on Professor Sprout’s desk, to which the professor said, “Oh my word Mr. Diggory we must contact Madame Bones immediately!”

The head auror was called in, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets forced open with a few words from the recently-revealed parselmouth Harry Potter, and the basilisk slain without any problems.

A success, if you asked Cedric.

His History of Magic and Transfiguration OWLs went swimmingly, and he received an O on both.

Everything being so easy got boring after a while.

-

The summer was precisely the same as always. Long, hot, lazy days.

Then Sirius Black took his leave from Azkaban.

-

Having Dementors around a school was hardly ideal, but the Ministry said so and the Ministry’s word was, quite literally, the law. Thus Professor Dumbledore was forced to allow the foul creatures to roam freely around Hogwarts, and to search the train before it’s arrival to Hogwarts.

Harry trembled as they approached, shivering back into the corner of the compartment, and the Dementor regarded all of them in a cool manner before retreating, leaving an unconscious third year behind.

Professor Lupin - bless that werewolf - offered Harry chocolate, which the boy accepted upon awakening.

It was not an auspicious beginning to what Cedric knew would not be a good year.

The first hint of something being off was the attack on the Gryffindor Common Room that left Ronald Weasley trembling with fear, for the mass murderer had been discovered when he accidentally awoke Weasley. It simply did not make sense. With Harry being such an important figure in the wizarding world, it had made the news when he was sorted into Hufflepuff rather than Gryffindor like his parents. Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but with the entirety of the Potter clan going to Gryffindor it had been quite the change of pace. Anyone could have found out that Harry was not in Gryffindor.

Further, the Hufflepuff common room was much easier to enter than the Gryffindor one. Five taps on a barrel and you were in.

_It just didn’t make sense_.

(Some six months later, Cedric would learn from his young friend that Sirius Black attacked Gryffindor rather than Hufflepuff because the real target of his ire was Peter Pettigrew, who happened to be the Weasley’s pet rat.)

-

The summer came and went, and Cedric chose not to attend the Quidditch World Cup, and then when it was attacked, his father spun it into something along the lines of, “My son has excellent instincts he told me not to go to the Quidditch World Cup even though the game was bound to be excellent.”

-

Come the beginning of the school year, Dumbledore announced the Triwizard Tournament, and left Cedric with quite the choice.

He could reenter (and in all likelihood be chosen) for the tournament that had once taken his life, or he could let another walk into the jaws of death and loose their life. In the end, it was no choice at all, and on Halloween Dumbledore called four names: Fleur Delacour, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Harry Potter. It was unendingly unfortunate for the fourth-year, but Cedric knew he would be alright and that was, somehow, enough.

The First Task felt like nothing in comparison to the Third, and he escaped unharmed. Like the previous time, Fleur’s skit caught fire and Viktor’s eggs were stepped upon, and Harry flew his broom, brilliant and unrestrained.

The Second Task, on the other hand, did not go unchanged. Cedric and Harry formed a team, emerging tied for first.

Cedric’s captive had been his closest friend, another sixth year by the name of Gabriel Tate, who was quiet and hardworking, relatively uninvolved in the yearly Harry Potter scandals, and wanted to write adventure books someday. Harry’s captive was Hannah Abbot, a girl in his year who had wavy blonde hair and brown eyes, and who was aiming to become an auror on the same level as Amelia Bones.

These Tasks really were easier the second time around.

The Third Task, in the starkest contrast of all, ended as such: Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory tied for first place in the Triwizard Tournament, the Cup having first transported them to a graveyard God-knows-where, and upon immediately grabbing the Cup once more they were transported to the Hogwarts grounds. Once this was reported, Head Auror Amelia Bones arrived with a team of her fellows, and the graveyard was investigated to the fullest extent, at which point they discovered a peculiar man, missing one finger, who happened to be dead, and was carrying a baby who was, secretly, the Dark Lord Voldemort.

That evening, Cedric considered the way things worked. How could it be that something so dramatic, so horrible, so very dark, had been staved off by simply touching a cup a few minutes sooner.


End file.
